


a poster with your face

by shineeboi



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dance Team, Fluff, M/M, genius rowoon, i use hwiyoung to recommend a song whoops, rowoon manages to be both incredibly smart and unbelievably dumb, snarky chani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22415077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineeboi/pseuds/shineeboi
Summary: chani: maybe i just have a really bad taste in men
Relationships: Kang Chanhee | Chani/Kim Seokwoo | Rowoon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	a poster with your face

**Author's Note:**

> In celebration of sf9’s first and second wins, I wrote this rochan fic. This is genuinely my first time writing a complete fic that's over 1000 words, so I'm really sorry if it's absolute garbage. Also, I know very little about dance, so pardon me if I get anything about dance competitions wrong. I used my experiences at marching band competitions as a reference, so I hope it’s at least believable. I almost made them band kids, but I don’t think the world is ready for that yet. Also, just a warning, I blow through like a month in a half in less than 4k words, so there are a lot of holes, meaning there’s a lot that’s implied. So, in case you’re unfamiliar with SF9 for some reason, there’s some information that you may need. Rowoon’s super clingy. Taeyang is pretty well known among EXO-Ls for being a huge EXO-L. Chani knows Taemin’s birthday but doesn’t know Rowoon’s, so needless to say I think he’s a pretty big fan.

It’s the start of a new semester, which means relatively low levels of stress until you realize it’s three weeks from the end of the semester and you’ve only performed adequately on all of your math tests, so now you have a 91.3% in the class and you want an A, but you’re fairly sure you bombed the last test that has yet to be graded, and now you have to get a really good score on your final. The teacher said it was going to be curved, but there are so many smart people taking the same class that there’s no way the curve is going to be kind to you. You want to study well, but for some reason, all of your teachers decided to assign final projects instead of actual finals, so now you have no time to study for the math final, so you’re fairly sure you’re gonna end the semester with a B+. 

Sorry… got a bit carried away there. Anyway, I’m Kang Chani and I’m a freshman in high school. A high school that is covered in posters of Rowoon (Kim Seokwoo, but just about nobody calls him that). They all say things like “Congratulations Kim Seokwoo for receiving a gold medal for the National Latin Exam” (I got silver where’s my poster) and “Congratulations to the dance club for making Championships” with Rowoon’s name in smaller letters along with a couple other names (I’m in it too, but they didn’t bother including me for some reason). 

The prison bell rang, indicating that it was time to go to first period. I have biology first, and I don’t think I have ever felt more bored in my life than in this class. The teacher doesn’t actually teach. I head to my desk in the back left corner of the room right behind Hwiyoung. As I sit down, I notice there’s another teacher person at the front of the room. Possibly a substitute? Except, he doesn’t look like a substitute. 

“Who is that?” I ask Hwiyoung. 

He turns around in his seat. “He’s our student teacher from the local university.”

I nod. “I hope he’s a better teacher than Mr. Jones.”

“It’s not hard to be better than Jones,” he retorts with a grin.

I grinned back at him right as the tardy bell rings.

“Ok class!” says the student-teacher person. “I’m Mr. Shim, and I will be teaching your class for this semester. The unit we will be starting with is Ecology” 

Wooo. Ecology. So excited... All jokes aside, I actually don’t mind ecology. The rest of the period went by relatively quickly. Maybe biology this semester won’t be as bad as the last one. After a few more classes, it was finally lunch. 

As I walked over to our usual lunch spot, I saw that almost everyone had gotten there before me. I sat in my spot in between Hwiyoung and Rowoon and opened my backpack to pull out my lunch. I turned to Rowoon. “There are like 50 billion new posters with your face on it. I’m getting really tired of seeing your face and this is the first time I’ve seen you in a few days.” 

“Nice to see you too Chani,” he says with a big shit-eating grin. 

“Also,” I turned to face Zuho, who was seated directly across from me, “why isn’t my name included on the dance poster, but Zuho’s is. I’m way better than him. And I’m literally in the front in the picture.” 

“Is it really that difficult for you to be nice to me?” 

“Yes.”

“See this is why your name isn’t on the poster,” retorts Taeyang. “You need to remember that Zuho’s the one who designs the fliers for our club.” 

I narrow my eyes. “So it was direct sabotage. I see how it is.”

“For the last time Chani, stop acting like everyone is out to get you,” replied Zuho, “I just forgot to put your name on it.”

“But I’m literally in the front of the photo!” 

I could see everyone shaking their heads at our argument. I felt an arm land on my left shoulder and turned right. I glared at the culprit, who kept smiling at me, much to my annoyance. I tried to get his arm off of me but to no avail. “Rowoon, you know I hate being touched.” 

He stuck his tongue out at me and said: “I know, but it’s cute when you’re irritated.”

“What are you? Five?” 

Just then, the prison bell rang. He brought his other arm around and gave me a squeeze. “See you after school Jjanhwi.” 

“Stop calling me that! My name is Chani. C H A N I.” 

Standing up with a chuckle, he headed toward his next class. Shaking my head, I did the same. 

· · ·

“Five six seven eight”

“One more time”

“Taeyang, very good. Chani, could you at least try to look like you’re having fun?”

“I’m trying! I can’t help that my face looks like this.”

No response. 

Preparations for Championships were well on their way. We only have a few weeks to perfect our performance. Since this was our first time making championships in a very long time, the school had allowed some of our alumni to compete with us. Youngbin doubles as our coach and our captain. Inseong, Jaeyoon, and Dawon are the other alumni who have returned. I’d assume being a college student is extremely time-consuming, so I have no idea how they’re making time to practice with us. They’re probably failing their classes. Priorities am I right? Haha. 

We’re performing Love Shot by EXO (suggested by Yoo Taeyang of course). I wanted to perform Sayonara Hitori by the dance king Lee Taemin, but everyone said “nO WE wANt A grOuP DAnCe” so we’re doing Love Shot, which is okay I guess. 

I look toward the clock on the wall right as someone slides in next to me. I don’t even have to look in his direction to know who it is. Nobody else is as freakishly tall as him. It’s 4:45, which means Youngbin’s about to give some sort of inspirational speech, and then tell us to clean the room. “Don’t you have other people to bother?” I ask the entity to my left.

“Nope, only you.”

“And you wonder why I hate you.”

“Hate’s a strong word Chani.”

“It’s the only word that’s strong enough to express how I feel about you.”

He throws his head back with a laugh. Noticing that Youngbin has made his way to the middle of the room, he ruffled my hair and walked over to Youngbin. I sighed and walked over as well. 

“You guys did a great job today. We only have 2 more weeks, so let’s keep up the good work. Remember that we have to aim to improve every day. The bar we set at the last competition is the very minimum acceptable performance this time around. Stagnation is the death of an artist. Got it?”

“Yes. Thank you Youngbin.”

“Everyone help clean the room.”

I walked to the back of the room and picked up the water cups scattered around the water dispenser. “We should all get reusable water bottles,” I grumbled. After glancing around to see if there was anything else to clean, I shoved open the door and walked toward the bus stop. Hwiyoung and Taeyang soon caught up with me. They were arguing about whether Zico or EXO was better. No idea how their music styles can even be compared, but I feel like Hwiyoung should know better than to fight Taeyang about EXO at this point. I looked up and noticed the bus had just turned the corner and was heading toward us. I stepped closer to the curb and pulled my bus pass out of my pocket. Taeyang and Hwiyoung followed suit. 

· · ·

It’s now 3 days from Championships and everyone in the team is extremely stressed. In the meantime, Rowoon has somehow won another math competition and another biology competition. There are even more posters with his face on them now. One would think it would be intimidating to know someone like him, but there’s honestly nothing to be afraid of. He once asked what the Spanish word for tortilla was and everyone thought he was joking. He wasn’t. He was dead serious. No words. 

Anyways, enough about his accomplishments. Time to talk about mine. We had this huge Biology essay about Ecology and Climate Change, and guess who got the best score in the entire class? That’s right. I did (of course). 59/60 baby! Jaemin asked Mr. Shim who got the best score in the class, and he said while he wouldn’t reveal who exactly it was, he would reveal that the person is a freshman. And then Jaemin said, “It was probably Jeno.” The audacity. Even Jeno was like “What? No? I did so bad on it.” Mr. Shim approached me after class and told me that I was the one who got the highest score. This is why you don’t assume, kids. 

Back to the competition. We’re practicing really hard right now. Well not now obviously, but you get the point. The dance looks really good now. Like almost good enough to perform in front of EXO. We’re having a short break right now, and guess who’s sitting next to me? It’s Rowoon. I know right? Wow! Who would have guessed. He’s got an arm around me and is going off about The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway, and how it’s an absolute masterpiece. I strongly disagree, so I’m tuning him out. Don’t think he’s noticed yet. 

“... exemplifies how Jake isn’t as lost as the rest of the so-called ‘Lost Generation’. When he is in a relationship with Lady Brett Ashley again at the end, he KNOWS he has nothing left to lose.” 

“I don’t understand how you can talk so much after an hour and a half of dance practice.”

“Well I don’t understand how you don’t like The Sun Also Rises.”

“Well-”

“You two are getting awfully cuddly in the corner,” Zuho commented from the opposite side of the room.

“Shut it Zuho,” I shouted back. 

“Damn. Ok. No need to be so rude.” 

Rowoon turned his head toward me, “you should probably be nicer to him.” 

“He hasn’t done anything to deserve my kindness.” 

“You should consider being nice to everyone even if they don’t deserve it.”

“But I am nice to everyone.”

“Was that a joke?” 

“No? I was dead serious.” 

With a chuckle, he reached over and ruffled my hair. “Why are you so cute?”

“I’m not cute. I’m cool. Thank you very much.”

Just then, I saw Youngbin walking to the middle of the room, and stood up. I felt Rowoon grab my leg. “Help me up.” I turned back to him. “The last time I checked, you aren’t crippled and are capable of standing on your own. What happened to being a ‘strong independent woman’?” I offered him my hand.

He grabbed it with a grin. “Thanks, Chani!” 

He proceeded to use my hand to propel himself onto me and walked toward Youngbin while still draped on me. I groaned, “why are you like this?” Once he had reached his intended destination, he let go of me. 

“Hey, guys! We did a great job during practice today. Keep this energy up until champs ok? However, there are some things that could use some polishing. Remember, it’s not about the intention, it’s about the execution. The judges don’t care what you intended to do, they care about the final product that is presented in front of them, and I expect you to deliver.” 

“Yes. Thank you Youngbin.”

“Remember to clean up!” 

I turned around to pick up the cups again. I tossed them in the trash can and walked straight out of the room. I heard footsteps speeding up until their owners were right next to me. “You know Seungyoun right?” I nodded. “He released a song called ‘different’ under the name WOODZ. It’s pretty good, you should listen to it.” 

The bus rounded the corner, and the three of us prepared to board it again. 

· · ·

Deep breaths. We’re performing in an hour and a half. 1.5 hours until the moment we’ve been preparing for for months. We can’t afford to mess up. The only thing worse than being disappointed that we didn’t place is being disappointed because we didn’t deliver the best possible performance. I don’t want to hate myself forever because I messed it up for everyone else. Deep breaths.

Rowoon strolled over with a concerned look on his face and wrapped his arms around me. I placed my face on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re being strangely complacent with me.” 

“I’m worried I’m gonna mess up. I don’t want to screw it up for everyone.”

“It’s okay, you’re not going to mess up. You’ll do well. Trust me.”

“But what if I do?”

“Brush it off. It’s only one moment in your entire life. If you fail, oh well, you’ll have another chance in the future. Promise me you won’t beat yourself up if something goes wrong?”

“Mhm”

I could feel him smiling down at me. “I have a question for you Chani.”

“Go ahead?”

“Do dogs have tails? I honestly can’t remember right now. I know cats do but do dogs?”

I shoved him away. “What do you mean ‘do dogs have tails?’ oF COURSE THEY DO. I’m gonna practice, go away.”

“The disrespect. Unbelievable.” And he was off to bug Inseong.

I glanced up at the clock. Only one more hour. Deep breaths. We’re gonna be fine.

· · ·

It’s showtime. 

I’m standing in my position in the nearly pitch-black auditorium. 

Someone whispers “Have a good show!”

And the lights are on. The music’s on. I look out at the audience. I’ve got this.

· · ·

“I couldn’t sleep last night so I decided to look into our competitors to see if we have a chance of winning or at least placing.”

“Why is that such an Inseong thing to do?” Dawon said while rolling his eyes.

Glaring at Dawon, Inseong continued, “Anyways, the group that always beats us is here, so we most likely will not get first. However, I was looking at the scoresheets of competitions we weren’t at and there’s one group at our level, and we’ve been doing better than the remaining groups. Second and Third place are fair game.”

“That’s good to hear,” Jaeyoon commented. 

We’re in the stands in the auditorium where the awards are presented. The anxiety is very evident on everyone’s faces. To ease my nerves, I had started to do my homework. Here’s my logic: the best way to not be nervous is to stress myself out with the amount of homework I’ve neglected because I was too busy preparing for champs. Probably not the best coping mechanism, but it works for me. Hwiyoung, Taeyang, and Rowoon are all doing their homework too, but I can tell they’re getting a bit restless. The judges are about to start announcing the awards and we’re very aware of that. Too aware. 

“I’m nervous.”

I turned back to look at Taeyang. “Me too man.” 

Suddenly the intercom turned on, “sorry for the delay, the judges are tallying the final scores for the day. The award ceremony will begin shortly.” 

The air buzzed with anticipation. One of the kids from the other schools shouted “Let’s make a wave! When I run in front of you, raise your arms and stand up.” He made his way to the left side of the bleachers, pointed at the dancers sitting there, and started running. Our seats were near the right, so I watched as the kid ran past the students further to the right, and once he got in front of me, I jumped up and raised my arms. Everyone was laughing. Funny how this one kid managed to get all of us to work together to form a wave even though we didn’t know each other. Once he reached the end of the bleachers he yelled, “One more time!” and started running toward where he had started. I jumped up once again and raised my arms. Looking around, I could tell that everyone no longer looked as nervous as they had previously. 

The intercom turned on again, “thank you all for coming to Championships. I’d like to congratulate all of you for your fantastic performances. And with that, let’s start with the senior division.”

Yikes. We’re in the senior division. There are 10 teams, but only the top 5 are announced. Top 3 get medals. I hope we place. 

“The senior division fifth place goes to…”

I hope it’s us, but at the same time, I really don’t want it to be us. 

“Entry number 1010! ‘Wild Eyes’”

Woah.

“The senior division fourth place goes to…”

Please.

“Entry number 0223! ‘Replay’”

Woah. This means either we’ve somehow made top 3, or we haven’t placed at all. 

“The senior division third place goes to...”

Please be us please be us please be us. 

“Entry Number 1109! ‘The Chaser’”

Huh, not us. I looked at Inseong. “That’s the school that’s been doing as well as us,” he explained.

“The senior division second place goes to…”

Please be us. 

“Entry number 1005! ‘Love Shot’”

YES! SECOND. It’s not first, but considering it’s our team’s first time at champs in a very long time, second is really good. I glance at Rowoon, who’s starting to tear up, but is trying (and failing) to hide them with a smile. I gave him as big of a smile as I could manage, and hooked my arm around his waist. “We did it.” 

He looked down at me. “We did it.”

· · ·

“Chani come outside with me.”

Umm? What does he want? Why does he want me to go outside with him??

“Why?”

“I wanna talk to you.”

“But you’re talking to me now?”

“I want to talk to you alone.”

Fair point. We are in a restaurant with the rest of the dance team. He stands up and gestures for me to follow him. I look around. Nobody has even batted an eye at Rowoon for getting up. I stand up and follow him out the door. 

“Let’s find a quiet spot.”

It literally sounds like I’m about to get murdered or something. Let’s hope I don’t. That’d be rather unfortunate. 

He looks around. “Utilizing that height, I see.” He lets out a faint chuckle. Possibly a pity chuckle. He holds his hand out. I look at him quizzically. “Take it.” Ah. I grab his hand as he leads me to some area in the vicinity of our current location. Once he reaches some stairs at the side of the mall, he sits down and gestures for me to sit next to him. 

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

He sighs. “I really don’t want to make our relationship awkward with this, but I promised myself that if we did well today, I would finally tell you this.” He pauses.

“Go on?” I mumble.

He inhales. “I hope this doesn’t make you feel awkward, but I like you. You don’t have to respond. I just felt that you deserve to know, so I’m not hiding anything from you.” 

Do I like Rowoon? I think about how comfortable his presence is. But anyone could make me feel that way. But at the same time, I can’t think of another person whose presence comforts me. Not even Hwiyoung. And, I have been letting him bat me around when I don’t even allow Hwiyoung to. Unconsciously, maybe I’ve already fallen for him. But, I can’t be sure of that yet. I turn my head towards him. He’s looking the other direction. “Sorry, I’m not sure how to respond to this yet. I don’t want to say anything without being sure about it.” 

He nods. “I understand.” He stands up and heads towards the restaurant. 

· · ·

As I make my way to the lunch spot, I notice an unusually empty spot next to my spot. 

“Where is he?” I ask.

“He said he had something to do. He might be back later,” responds Zuho.

I frown. I hope he’s okay. 

· · ·

It’s been almost a week since the incident at the mall. I still haven’t talked to him. Whenever I see him in the halls, he looks slightly dejected. It kinda feels like getting punched in the gut. But, I can’t give him an answer until I’m sure about it. He deserves the truth. 

I keep asking myself ‘do I like Rowoon?’ and every day, the answer seems to be inching closer to yes. 

You know what? I miss him. I never thought I’d ever say this, but I miss seeing his face. I see him pretty often because his face literally covers every surface of this damn school, but it just isn’t the same. Should I do something about it? Probably. Am I? Possibly. 

· · ·

“Rowoon!”

He stops in his tracks. I hasten my footsteps and make my way to him. As I approach him, the anxiety is very apparent on his face. I stand in front of him.

“I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I think we should talk.”

He nods.

“I’m not good with words, so I’m gonna try to explain this as well as I can. I’ve been thinking about this since we were at the mall. I don’t think liking you had ever been on my mind before then. And, to be entirely honest, I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I do think I’m much too young to be in a relationship, but you know what? I’m willing to give this a try. Rowoon. Kim Seokwoo. I like you, and I hope you still feel the same.” 

I look up at him. He’s getting a bit teary-eyed. “Of course I do.”

He grins. “Hey Chani, do you live in a cornfield?”

“No?”

“‘Cause I’ve been stalking you,” he quips while throwing up finger guns.

Maybe I just have a really bad taste in men.

**Author's Note:**

> I referred to the school bell as a prison bell because that’s genuinely what the bells at my school sounded like, but they decided to change it a week ago, and now it sounds like when the fasten seatbelt sign turns on on airplanes. It's kinda funny. My friend wants them to change it into an air horn, which honestly seems like the way to go.


End file.
